


Echoes and Flashes

by xanthera



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanthera/pseuds/xanthera
Summary: A chance encounter with the Brotherhood of Steel reopens a wound that Allison didn’t know existed.OrThe Sole Survivor has a very different reaction to the Fat Man than other Fallout protagonists.
Relationships: Female Sole Survivor/Piper Wright
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81





	Echoes and Flashes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be honest; this fic was highkey inspired by how, when playing Fo4, seeing a white flash activates my fight or flight response because I KNOW that either there's a powerful enemy with a Fat Man, or something in the environment is exploding, and both of those things could be bad news.
> 
> That, and the fact that the Sole Survivor SAW AN ATOM BOMB GO OFF, which was also associated with a horrifically traumatic loss for them. Seeing working nuclear arms would probably be highly disturbing to them at BEST. This specific trauma for the Sole Survivor hasn't been explored enough for my tastes, so here we are. Enjoy!

“Well, well,” Piper hums. “Sounds like the Brotherhood is gonna do most of the heavy lifting for us.”

Sure enough, the telltale rumble of a vertibird engine grows louder the closer the trio gets to their destination. Allison crests the hill, followed by Piper and Dogmeat, and they spot it, hovering over the entrance to the Federal Ration Stockpile and raining bullets on the raiders as two heavily armored knights jump out to engage them directly.

“No complaints here,” Allison says, scratching Dogmeat’s head. “I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Piper’s brow furrows. “Look at what in the what now?”

“Okay,” Allison laughs, “ _that’s_ a colloquialism that’s going to take a while to explain. Do horses even still exist?”

A too familiar blinding flash, and her thoughts come to a screeching halt. An explosion, so much smaller than what she saw that day, but unmistakable. Allison snaps her head to the left and watches slack-jawed as the Brotherhood knight prepares to launch another projectile from his massive weapon.

_There are still functioning Fat Men? No one thought to destroy them?! After everything?!_

The burning anger is instantly replaced by a cold fear that holds her heart in a vice-grip. A barrage of images pound in her head, and she knows what this is, can feel it happening but can’t stop it. Memories flood to the surface, of nights spent holding Nate close after his all too frequent nightmares, of reassurances and “I’ve got you”s and fingers carded through dark hair and _air raid sirens blaring as people poured out of their houses in a panic, screaming, crying, a throng of frenzied bodies all struggling to push their way to safety as the military descended on the tiny suburb._

Allison stumbles back against a tree, scrabbling behind her for purchase on something, _anything_ to ground her as present and past whirl together in a nauseating maelstrom. Another flash, and she digs her fingers into the tree bark, breathing hard and focusing intently on the sting of splinters burying themselves in her skin and not _a distant blast that resonated through her bones and a white flash and an orange mushroom cloud and a wave of heat and death that barreled toward her like a charging beast as the world ended._

“Blue…?”

Another flash, another _blast of superheated air that passed over their heads by mere feet as they traveled down into the unrelenting darkness of the vault._

“Blue, talk to me.”

Too many thoughts, too many memories. They all bleed together as she watches the Brotherhood knight charge forward, bearing his weapon like a trophy, like he isn’t carrying a smaller version of the technology that destroyed _her world was gone, burned to cinders high above them as the ‘decontamination’ pod closed and the cold enveloped her._ The knight finally drops the godforsaken thing, his ammo spent, and switches over to _a handgun, a heavy revolver that rang in her ears as Nate slumped in his pod and she beat helplessly on the glass while her baby was carried away, and then the cold returned and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t_ —

“Allison!”

That jolts her back. Piper never calls her by name. It’s always ‘Blue.’

Piper stands in front of her and looks into her eyes. “Allison. Allison, I don’t know where you’re at in your head right now, but it’s not real. We’re just south of Sunshine Tidings, overlooking an old military facility. You’ve got me and Dogmeat watching your back, and the Brotherhood is right over there. You’re about as safe as you could hope to be out here.”

 _Right. It’s in the past._ Allison’s knees buckle and she collapses, suddenly lightheaded.

Piper kneels beside her and gently squeezes her shoulder. “Easy there, take deep breaths.”

Allison obeys, drawing in several shuddering gasps and reminding herself that yes, she is safe. Piper is watching her back, after all. And she knows her best friend would never let anything happen to her.

She vaguely registers Piper helping her to her feet, Dogmeat nosing at her hand as she watches the victorious Brotherhood knights climb back aboard the vertibird. As the aircraft lifts off, she trudges toward the stockpile. Or, she attempts to. Until Piper steers her towards the smaller outbuilding instead.

“Wait. What- what are you doing?” She doesn’t resist, though. Her voice is shaky, her breaths uneven, and she hates how weak she feels.

“I’m giving you a breather,” Piper says.

“But they- they didn’t do anything about the- the inside—”

“Blue, you’re not okay right now.” Piper gently guides Allison down onto a wooden pallet and sits beside her while Dogmeat curls up at their feet. “The raiders inside the complex aren’t going anywhere after that racket. Just take it easy and get your bearings.”

Allison wants to argue, wants to get moving again so she can drown out the thoughts pounding in her head with the percussive din of gunfire because at least she has some _control_ over that, but, fuck, a long rest does sound _extremely_ good right now. She leans against the wall and focuses on the sensation of the cold concrete on the back of her skull. “God. Those arrogant, hypocritical bastards.” She scowls and shakes her head. “I saw reports of the Fat Man’s development on the news, army big-wigs crowing about how portable nuke launchers would turn the war around. Then the real bombs hit and…”

She clenches her fists as images of that day threaten to overtake her again. “If the Brotherhood of Steel really wanted to keep dangerous technology from being abused, they would have destroyed every Fat Man they found. They would have destroyed _any_ nuclear arms they found. Every piece of equipment, every document, every shred of information that could be used to create more fucking death machines.”

Piper sighs and lays a gentle hand on Allison’s knee. “Preaching to the choir, Blue. The Brotherhood doesn’t actually care about other people. They’re too far up their own asses to see the bigger picture. Too busy playing comic book hero, charging into battle for ‘honor’ and ‘glory’ or whatever feudalistic crap they’re using to justify their xenophobia this week.”

Allison laughs humorlessly. “Fuck, the human race really didn’t learn a damn a thing from the war, did they? All the posturing, the shows of force that solve nothing? It’s the same old thing. People fighting each other instead of working together. Everything going to hell, but no one doing anything about it.”

She glares into the distance, unseeing, her anger at the cruelty of the world ringing in her head, until the sudden warmth of Piper’s hand in her own draws her thoughts back to the present.

“ _We’re_ doing something about it,” Piper finally says.

Allison smiles and laces their fingers together, absently running her thumb over Piper’s knuckles. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are.”

She doesn’t really want to put a name to whatever this… _thing_ is that’s been growing between them, this easy closeness and familiarity. Not yet, anyway. Because whatever it is, she doesn’t want to lose it. There’s no question that Piper is her best friend in this new, strange world. Hell, she wasn’t even half as close to her friends from the old world as she is to Piper, and she’s known Piper for all of three months.

It had all been so superficial back then; if it wasn’t snobbish rich kids from the fancy private schools her parents enrolled her in, it was snobbish rich adults. Lawyers who had themselves convinced that they shat rainbows, politicians and businessmen using their clout (and wallets) to get a favorable court ruling, trophy spouses spitting malicious gossip behind each-other’s backs. It was the norm of the social strata she had been born into, and she had never managed to fully escape it. Everyone in Boston knew of her family, and for all she tried to distance herself from the Brandt reputation for ruthlessness and greed, they still saw Allison as nothing more than an in with one of the most powerful families in Massachusetts.

Nate was the one exception in her life. He had nothing to his name but a trade school degree, but still talked circles around rich elites who assumed that a mechanic from Roxbury wouldn’t have two brain cells to rub together. He had been so much better than all of the bullshit, so keenly aware of the unfairness of the world and so eager to change it - and she sees that same spark, that same unrelenting, _defiant_ goodness, in Piper.

It scares her a little bit. Because moments like this - where Allison is floundering and Piper keeps her head above water - leave her with the same warmth that she felt around Nate. That feeling of safety, camaraderie, of being worth something more than what was simply _expected_ of her.

With Piper, she doesn’t have to be the General, or Agent Charmer. Just Allison. Just Blue.

She shouldn’t feel this way. It’s too soon, Nate’s death still too raw a wound. Her son is missing, the Minutemen need her leadership, the Railroad needs her skill, she doesn’t have time for silly crushes. But she can’t deny that Piper has begun to fill the gap in her heart left by her husband. Piper keeps her grounded, keeps her sane, gives her hope that human kindness didn’t die when the bombs fell. Honestly, most of the people in her old life would never have been able to handle Piper’s brand of aggressive honesty and her unflinchingly _good_ soul. The old world was too closed-minded for that.

 _The old world._ Allison feels herself starting to slip into her own head again, until a cold nose presses into her palm, and she looks into Dogmeat’s strangely plaintive eyes.

More memories, softer this time, of nights curled against her husband’s back, promising each other again and again that tomorrow would be the day that they finally called the VA. They’d done the research, they knew it would be a good fit, and after all, no picture perfect suburban family was complete without a pet, right?

Allison’s lips quirk at those adorably expressive eyebrows. “You’re like my little PTSD pup, aren’t you, boy?”

“Peetee-essdee…?” Piper is trying to be gentle with her, but there really is no containing that inquisitive nature of hers.

It’s endearing as hell, and nearly coaxes a full smile from Allison. “Post-traumatic stress disorder. My husband had it. I, uh, I’m pretty sure I have it, too, now. It’s… There’s a lot more to it than this, but when something reminds you of a traumatic event in your past, you have extremely vivid flashbacks. Like a very specific panic attack that’s also a memory.” She takes a breath to clear her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Fuck, I’m still really out of it. I know I’m getting some of it wrong. A lot of soldiers came back from the war with PTSD. Some were able to get service dogs trained specifically to help people cope with it. Mainly used to feel safe and comforted.” She smiles and scratches under Dogmeat’s chin. “German Shepherds were actually a very popular choice for service dogs.”

Piper hums thoughtfully. “‘Service dogs’, huh? I read once that people used to use dogs to guide the blind. I guess with enough time, you really could train a dog to do nearly anything.”

Allison finds it in her to really, genuinely laugh. “You don’t know the half of it, Pipes. There were dogs that could sniff out fucking cancer.” She rubs Dogmeat’s cheeks and feels her heart melt at the dopey doggy grin he sports. “Man’s best friend. I swear, if we could just get our hands on any and all pre-war research on dogs, we could rebuild half of society on that alone.”

Piper giggles, and they sit in amicable silence broken only by the crackly DCR broadcast on Allison’s Pip-Boy. Allison is calm enough to admit that they really aren’t in any hurry, so she slides her glasses off and tucks them into their pouch on her bandolier. The world blurs, and she gives herself permission to shift out of survival mode for the moment. “So, if you didn’t know what PTSD is, how did you know how to deal with me having a flashback?”

“I didn’t have a name for it,” Piper says, “but I recognized that thousand-yard stare. It’s the same look my dad would get sometimes. There are some former members of Diamond City Security who have moments like that, too, but I’ve never had to help them through it. Dad, though… I had to pull him back to reality a few times. That was the routine I worked out with him. Say his name, remind him of where he was and that he was safe.”

God, the amount of trust this woman has in her will never cease to amaze her. It’s obvious, so obvious, that Piper’s father is an incredibly painful subject for her, but somehow she trusts Allison with one of her biggest burdens.

So she owes it to her to repay that trust.

“I never told you,” Allison says after a long while. “I haven’t told anyone. I…” She swallows hard. She remembers too well what opening up was like for Nate, but she knows she has to say it aloud, get it out of her before it grows bigger than she can handle and eats her up from the inside. “I saw it.”

“Saw what?”

Allison draws in a deep, steadying breath. “I saw the warhead that hit Massachusetts.” She feels rather than hears Piper gasp next to her. “We were on the lift waiting to go down into the vault, we knew the bombs were coming any minute but we had no way of knowing if we’d make it. The sirens were going off, everyone was screaming, and suddenly there was this flash. Everything just- it all went white for a second. When it cleared, there was a mushroom cloud just southwest of Boston and I- I could _see_ the blast wave heading right for us.”

It’s more detail than she planned to give, but once she starts, she can’t stop the stream of consciousness. “We barely made it down in time. The blast went right over our heads, the air in the shaft got- it must have gotten to over a hundred degrees. And that sound…” Her voice cracks, and she feels the sting of oncoming tears. “God, it was- it was like I could hear the entire world _screaming_ as they all burned alive on the surface. I—” Her breath hitches, and the words that come next are so quiet that she’s not sure Piper can even hear them. “I thought I was in Hell.”

It takes her a moment to realize that Piper’s hand has moved to her back, and is rubbing circles between her shoulders. She laughs ruefully and wipes an errant tear away with the heel of her palm. “Sorry, that sounds melodramatic as shit, doesn’t it?”

Piper takes Allison’s chin in her hand and gently turns her face towards her. Her hazel-green eyes shine with an earnestness that catches Allison completely off guard. “Blue. You have gone through _so much_. You’ve lost everything, your entire world, but you keep going. Not just for yourself, but for total strangers, just because it’s the right thing to do. And maybe I’ll never truly understand what you’ve gone through, but I do know loss, and grief. I know that ignoring the pain, or trying to shoulder it alone, only makes it worse.” She takes both of Allison’s hands in her own and squeezes. “You don’t have to keep it together a hundred percent of the time, or pretend you’re not hurting. You’re allowed to heal.”

The world is silent for a fraction of a second that lasts an eternity as Allison processes Piper’s words. Then a sob tears itself from her throat, and Piper’s arms are around her. Allison buries her face in the crook of Piper’s neck and clings to her like a lifeline. Gentle fingers undo the loose bun at the back of her head and run through her hair, and she finally, _finally_ , lets herself crumble.

Allison watched her world die, and she’s never really thought about that moment - that brief but terrible moment when mankind nearly destroyed itself - and all of the fear and grief from that day that’s she’s pushed to the wayside for the sake of her family comes rushing back tenfold. Everyone, everything, burnt away while she could only watch helplessly.

It _was_ Hell.

Her sobs grow louder, great heaving breaths that shake her entire body, and Piper’s hold on her tightens. She just about pulls Allison into her lap and rocks her slowly, one hand cupping the back of her head.

“I’ve got you.”

Oh, those words break her. Trembling fingers grasp desperately at the back of Piper’s coat as Allison melts into her embrace, loses herself in the sensation of being _held_ and _warm_ and _safe_.

And she shouldn’t be feeling like this, like Piper’s arms are the only place she was ever meant to be, but she does, and somehow she manages to cry harder, because she has feelings for Piper and it’s _not fair_. It’s not fair that Allison is here, alive, rebuilding herself and finding new love in the shadow of the old world, while Shaun grows up a prisoner of the greatest evil in the Commonwealth, and Nate lies buried behind the husk of the house where they were supposed to share the rest of their lives.

But here she is, fair or not. And, god, if she had to fall in love in this fucked up world of raiders and deathclaws and Institutes, Allison is damn lucky she’s found someone as incredible as Piper Wright. Even luckier that Piper, it seems, feels similarly.

There’s some comfort in that, in the knowledge that this thing between them that they won’t name out loud is mutual, and it calms her enough for her to get a handle on her breathing, to go from sobs to quiet whimpers. She somehow manages to let go of Piper, to slide down and lay trembling with her head in her lap. Calloused fingers comb through her hair, and Allison lets herself be weak. Because even at her weakest, Piper is there to keep her steady until she can be strong again.

“Thank you,” Allison says, her voice still thick with tears. “For being here for me.”

Piper sighs and begins to massage Allison’s scalp. “You’re my best friend. I will _always_ be here for you.”

Allison leans into the touch, and her eyes fall closed of their own accord. Piper smells like ink and leather and just a little bit of cigarette smoke, and the scent washes over her like a balm.

_Maybe this is okay._

Piper shifts a little bit, and Allison sits up slightly to see her gazing out the door. She follows her line of sight, and notes the waning sunlight.

“We should get back to Sunshine Tidings while there’s still daylight,” Piper says.

Allison sits up fully and raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t we just bed down inside the complex after we clear it out?”

“Because you still look like you’re about to pass out. I don’t think you’re in any shape for an intense firefight.”

“What? Piper, I’m not _that_ —” Allison stops, closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Okay. Okay, we’ll take care of them tomorrow. I just wish I could…” She stands and looks in the direction of the stockpile entrance, biting her lip.

The idea of letting these human parasites run unchecked for any longer makes her stomach turn, but Piper is right. After the racket the Brotherhood caused, the rest of the gang won’t be in any rush to pick a fight with whoever is still outside. They’ll be waiting to make a last stand, bathed in blood and reveling in their sadism like they always are. Waiting to kill whoever stands up to them, to continue hurting innocent people.

She wants to stop them, but she can’t, and it weighs on her like lead.

Allison feels Piper staring and turns towards her. The soft look on her face leaves Allison breathless. A look of sympathy, admiration, affection.

A look she’s only ever received from Nate.

Piper takes Allison’s hand and simply holds it, stroking the back with her thumbs. “You care so much, Blue.”

Allison smiles. “Is that a bad thing?”

Piper returns the smile, an easy, flirty grin that sends a flush of heat to Allison’s cheeks. She gives Allison’s hand a little squeeze and says, “Actually, it’s one of my favorite things about you.”

If her cheeks were pink before, they’re scarlet now.

Piper laughs and pulls Allison forward, and their fingers lace together automatically. With Dogmeat loping lazily beside them, they begin the trek back to Sunshine Tidings. The echoes of explosions and afterimages of white flashes fade away, replaced by bright laughter and a red coat, and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, with some help, she’ll be alright.

Allison squeezes Piper’s hand, and she pushes onward.


End file.
